War makes systems. London is about to test them.
By the time the dead reach the capital, the Great War has already taught Britain how to endure the unthinkable. Trains still run. Offices still open. Orders are still given and obeyed. When reports of reanimated corpses surface across the city, officials search for containment rather than answers. Soldiers are redeployed, streets sealed, explanations deferred. The living are told to carry on - and most of them do. But London is not the trenches. The dead move among civilians, theatres, markets, and stations. Control proves harder to maintain. Authority fractures. And those tasked with managing the outbreak begin to understand that the greatest danger is not panic, but the quiet belief that order can always be restored. As the machinery of government tightens its grip, the question is no longer whether the dead can be controlled - but what must be sacrificed to do so. Book Two of the Royal Zombie Corps A restrained, unsettling portrait of a city under strain, where horror spreads not through chaos, but through procedure - and the cost of obedience is no longer confined to the front.